The Match
by venomousgal
Summary: When a serious illness threatens a family, a secret is revealed. Will a father's donation be their salvation?
1. Prologue

_**se·cret**__ (sē′krĭt)_

_Noun:_

_Something that is kept or meant to be kept unknown or unseen by others_

I have always admired my father.

He was my idol when I was a young girl and could do no wrong in my eyes. I thought he was the smartest, bravest, most handsome man alive.

Tall and proud in his police blues, with gleaming boots and service hat perched on his thick, black hair, he was my knight in shining armor, able to fight away the bad guys and protect me from the monsters under my bed.

Charlie Swan was also man's man, and while he was my knight, he was also a household name in our small town. He sat on the city council and organized neighbor watches that kept the streets of Forks safe for its residents. He and my mother were the pillars of our small community, often volunteering their time and helping the less fortunate, many times opening their own home for those in need.

As I got older I learned that despite outward appearances my father was simply a man. A man that was afraid and helpless in the face of illness. A man that felt powerless against the sickness that ravaged my body. A man that was desperate and willing to do anything he could to spare me from an untimely end, even if it meant revealing a part of his past he had kept from all of us.

I thought I knew my father. Being a daddy's girl I would have once told you I knew him better than anyone, save and except for my mother.

I should have known better.

You see, we all have secrets we hold close to our heart. Secret truths that only we know about, truths that we cannot or will not share with the people closest to us for fear that they will judge us.

And boy, was my dad holding out. Most people had a skeleton or two in their closet, but Charlie Swan could possibly have had a whole damn graveyard for all he knew.

I would never have guessed that my father was hiding something of this magnitude, a secret that even my mother was not privy to until now.

He sat at his desk, computer in front of him, his brown eyes, usually bright with mischief, looking defeated as he glanced sideways towards me, his embarrassment almost palpable. My mother, looking shattered but equally resigned, laid her hand comfortingly on his shoulder, conveying her unspoken love and support despite the fact that he had also hid this from her. Her gesture, though simple, spoke volumes about the depth of their relationship and devotion to each other.

Turning his face away from me and back to the computer in front of him, my father quickly typed in the required information, his hands visibly shaking as he completed the last field on the screen. He paused for a moment, swallowing audibly and raised his hand to smooth over the ends of his moustache, something I knew he did only when nervous or upset. Before he could change his mind, he reached down and clicked the link at the bottom of the page, indicating his entry as complete. His information had barely been sent when his computer chimed and the webpage indicated there was an instant match to his application.

My father sucked in a shaky breath as his hand scrubbed nervously through his hair, making his curls stand on end. I rubbed at my own head, feeling the stubble just starting to grow back on my scalp and wished for the thousandth time that I still had my long hair.

With tears in his eyes my father clicked to obtain the information that would change our entire lives from this day forward.

There was only one match listed.

_I'm a girl, born September 13, 1986_.

My mother gasped in a breath and sobbed, collapsing to her knees beside the desk, hugging my father. Her tears were not ones of sadness, but ones of hope.

I could only sit, stunned silent.

A sister.

I had a sister, albeit a half one. A possible genetic match.

The question now was, would she be willing to save me?


	2. Chapter 1

_**Before I forget the legal stuff…..I don't own any of these characters, just the plot. A quick word of thanks to all who reviewed the prologue to this story. It was a nice welcome back after having been MIA for so long. It certainly feels good to be writing creatively once again. A quick shout out to Mel24Fan, ****barbarito and CathyD who have followed me right from the start. Mwah to all of you!**_

**rav·age** (răv′ĭj)

_v._ **rav·aged**, **rav·ag·ing**, **rav·ages**

_ ._

**1. **To bring heavy destruction on; devastate: _A tornado ravaged the town._

**2. **To pillage; sack: _Enemy soldiers ravaged the village__._

_ ._

To wreak destruction.

_n._

**1. **The act or practice of pillaging, destroying, or devastating.

**2. **Grievous damage; havoc: _the ravages of disease__._

It started slow.

I didn't see it coming at all.

I was blissfully immersed in my normal all-American life. The only worries I had were the regular everyday things such as work rehearsals, family dinners, my social life and planning my upcoming wedding.

I truly miss all the inconsequential decisions from back then. They were safe. They were easy.

_Will I choose pink or blue flowers for the wedding?_

_Should I cut my hair shorter or grow it out?_

_Should I invest in a new car or wait until the market improves? _

At the age of 24, the last thing you think about is your mortality. Life seems indefinite, still so much to experience, to see and to do. You think you have all the time in the world; you can put things off until tomorrow, or you can do it "someday." You believe your future to be endless and that you are somehow above such things as sickness, poverty, and death.

Reality, it seems, is a cruel bitch.

It was innocent enough at first. An unexplained bruise or two, aching joints, paleness, lack of energy, loss of appetite. All of these things could be justified with what was going on in my life at the time. I danced for a living, I spent many a late, grueling night rehearsing for my debut in an upcoming show and to top it off I was in the midst of planning my wedding. Sounds reasonable, right?

From there things got a little worse, I began having shortness of breath and suffered from a sudden weight loss. I chalked it up to stress and kept on with my daily routine, figuring it would resolve itself once my life slowed down a bit.

Sadly it didn't happen that way that I had planned.

It took me collapsing during my dress rehearsal for me to wake up to the fact that something was, indeed, grievously wrong.

I was immediately brought to the emergency department of the nearest hospital and thus began a multitude of tests that lasted for days. Blood counts, x-rays, and eventually bone marrow aspirations were done in the hopes of determining a cause for my illness.

During it all, I was terrified of what the doctor was going to find. I had my whole life stretched out in front of me. I was just making my professional debut, I still had to get married and I eventually wanted to start a family. Illness was not in my game plan.

My parents and Jasper were there with me holding my hand when the doctor finally sat us down for the results, his face grim.

I'm glad they were beside me because once I heard the word leukemia I mentally checked out.

This could not possibly be happening to me. It had to be some sort of mistake. Leukemia was _cancer_. Cancer killed people, and I was too young to die.

Unfortunately without treatment, I was already dying.

Which brings us to now.

Week two of induction chemotherapy, AKA my own personal hell.

I groaned and squeezed my eyes closed tightly while trying to choke down the steadily growing wave of nausea that was trying to climb its way up out of my throat. I started violently as I felt a cool, wet cloth touch my face and that small movement was all it took for my iron control to crumble. I bolted upright and scrambled for the k-basin.

I had already thrown up so much today that my throat was raw. Tears leaked out of my eyes unbidden, and I felt awful when I heard the answering groan from beside me.

"I'm so sorry, sugar, I shouldn't have touched you, I was just trying to help," Jasper's sad and earnest grey eyes met mine as I sat up to wipe at my mouth with the damp cloth he still held in his hand.

He hadn't left my side since my admission to the hospital and I was both grateful and sorry for the fact. Grateful as his love and support was exactly what I needed, but also sorry, as I hated for him to see me so weak. It was taking a toll on him, and my parents, who had both come to Seattle from Forks and were currently camping out in our apartment.

As if summoned by thought, my father stuck his head in the door, a fake smile plastered on his face. Shit, he must have heard me retching from out in the hall. Goddammit!

"Jasper, why don't you go home and take a shower? Sue just stopped downstairs for coffee but we are here now, and it would do you good to get a bit of a break," Dad gestured towards the window and grimaced when Jasper shook his head, dismissing the offer.

At this point I spoke up. Jasper really needed the break and I knew he wasn't going to leave without a proper incentive. "Baby, that's a good idea, " I whispered, one hand raising to touch my dry, cracked lips, "I would really love if when you came back from the apartment you could bring me some of my special lip chap I have on my dresser, and a fresh set of pajamas. I really feel like a mess right now, and that would help."

His eyes flashed to mine uncertainly and I reached out to touch his hand. "It's okay, Jas. Really. Please go take a break, have a nap, eat, shower, and then come back to me. I'll be fine with mom and dad. I promise."

He hesitated further and then reluctantly stood. "You'll call me right away if…..I mean….well for whatever?"

I nodded as my father took the vacated chair beside my bed. "I will. And can you please give everyone a status update. Let them know I love them all but I'm just not up to having company right now. Besides Dr. Banner is worried about me getting too many visitors since my white count is so low and I'm susceptible to infection."

Jasper nodded and turned towards the door, narrowly missing my mother who had just stepped through it bearing a cardboard tray of coffee.

The smell of the coffee set off a powerful wave of nausea and I gagged and vomited all over the front of myself before my shaking hands could grab for the k-basin. My mother dumped the tray of coffee in Jasper's hands and rushed forward to assist me as my father ushered him out of the room, ignoring his loud protests that he needed to help me.

I laid back and cried in humiliation and frustration, my hands pressed tightly over my face, as my mother pressed the call bell for my nurse and tried to mop up the wet stinking mess using the box of tissues on my rollaway table.

My nurse, Jessie, appeared within minutes and quickly took control of the situation, retrieving fresh towels to clean up the mess and calling housekeeping to come strip the bed, while asking my father to wait outside the room for my privacy.

My legs shook like leaves in a storm as I stood, leaning heavily on my mother as the nurse helped me into a fresh gown. It would have to do until Jasper returned. At least my request to him for clean pajamas was now valid.

As I turned back toward the bed to allow Jessie to tie the gown in the back I gasped in horror and chocked back a sob.

_How much more was I supposed to take?_

"Alice," my mom asked hesitantly, while reaching quickly for the basin, "are you okay? Are you going to be sick again?"

I couldn't even respond. I was beyond words. I pointed one finger towards the clump of dark hair on my pillowcase while the other hand automatically rose to the back of my head, feeling for the area of loss.

I swallowed a whimper and dropped my hand in anguish. The doctor had warned me that this was a common side effect, but I had hoped…..

Well, I don't know what I had hoped but it wasn't for this. Ignoring my mother's whispered words of comfort, I laid my head down on her shoulder and cried for the second time that day as she rocked me back and forth.


End file.
